Melissa F.

The Beloved Yellow House

Home is a place that loving memories unfold.
These memories are kept close, and many are untold.
A girl five years old used to live in her past house.
She ran out back to explore in her new white blouse.

She walked out on a block on the calm, serene river,
As the early spring breeze gave the young girl a shiver.
This block was where she spent summers fishing.
She also spent times out there pondering and wishing.

She looked at her new house and made her way through the backyard.
Where many times she fell off her bike and her knees were scarred.
She loved the way the peaceful yellow house looked and how she felt.
Later, down the road she had to move and you wonder how she dealt?

The holidays were approaching and were almost here.
Christmas was her favorite holiday and it was near.
Running down the steep stairs to race to the tall and beautiful Christmas tree.
She had to wait for her father to wake so she let her presents be.

This beloved house is where her blue eyes cried the most.
The memory of her father which she has always kept close.
He died on Father's Day of 1998, a day she could not bear.
She soon became confused and felt the cold feeling of despair.

The dreadful day she had to move broke her fragile little heart.
Years of memories and beautiful days soon had to depart.
She slowly drove away thinking about memories she holds so dear.
She slowly saw her childhood and her beloved house disappear.

This girl was me who had been lucky and truly blessed.
To live in this house where my childhood had been the best.
I will always and forever call this place home.
No matter what my future holds and wherever I may roam.





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